The Impossible Con
by the-real-miss-masters
Summary: What happens after a painting is stolen under seemingly impossible circumstances? Peter and Neal take the case, of course! Takes place about a month after the episode 'Checkmate' *While this is not my first writing, it is my first fic, so I'm a bit nervous about it. I hope you enjoy reading it, because I enjoyed writing it! Not 100% sure what'll happen, so I'll rate it T for now.
1. Chapter 1

Peter gave a groggy yawn as he unlocked his sleek black car, dropping the case file in the passenger seat as he slid in behind the wheel. He smiled slightly at the manilla folder. Neal is gonna love this one, he thought as he let out another yawn. He rolled his neck from side to side, cracking the stiff joints.

His coffee machine was on the fritz, and, in his opinion, a morning without caffeine was worse than being shot at. Not that he got shot at too often. Life in the white collar crime division was rarely so exciting. He sighed. Perhaps he could score his morning cup of joe at the office, so long as the machine there was in a forgiving mood. But before he could even think of coffee, he had to go pick up his favorite convict.

Peter pulled the car into a parking spot in front of the tall red brick building Neal called home. The fact that he found an open parking space in New York was a miracle in itself. Perhaps his day was looking up. He walked up to the front door, his arm aching as he rose it to knock. Moments later, the door swung open to reveal a smiling Neal, who looked as perky as ever. Peter wondered if Neal was always so upbeat, or if he just enjoyed conning people into thinking he was.

"Morning, Peter," Neal said chipperly, "though by your expression I'm assuming you aren't having a very good one."

"No coffee," Peter replied flatly.

"Ah," Neal said with a nod, "In that case, would you like to come in? June made some this morning. She got the beans for it imported from-"

"No thanks. While the offer is extremely tempting, we've got to get down to the bureau. A new case popped up a few hours ago, and it's right up your alley."

"Sounds fun," Neal replied with a smirk, "What's the case?"

Peter turned and the two men started walking toward the car.

"The authenticator of the Museum of the City of New York flagged a painting that was on loan to them as being a forgery."

"Okay," replied Neal as he slid gracefully into the passenger side of the car, "but that seems a pretty run-of-the-mill case for us. How is this one any different?"

"Because the painting was authenticated before being sent to New York. Meaning someone switched out the real one for a fake between then and when the authenticator got it a few hours ago."

"I'm still not getting how this is supposed to be something special."

Peter smiled. "It's special because there's no way the painting could have been switched."

Neal finally seemed interested. "Are you sure it wasn't possible? Because I've seen plenty of 'impossible' heists work out in the end."

Peter glared at him.

"None of them were mine!" Neal said defensively. Peter sighed and let the comment slide.

"The heist was impossible because the painting was in an air-tight container that was protected by a biometric lock which would only respond to the museum owner or the painting's owner, and on top of that, the painting was under constant armed guard as it was shipped here."

Neal knitted his bow. "Mind if I ask what painting needed such a high level of security?"

"It was a Raphael- 'The Small Cowper Madonna'"

Neal paled. "It's impressive enough that somebody stole a Raphael, that was under armed guard none the less, but the Small Cowper Madonna?!"

"Told 'ya you'd like this one," Peter said with a grin.

***

Once they were at the office, Neal's mind began to race. How could someone steal such a famous painting? And from under the noses of armed guards, at that! Neal smirked. For someone to pull off a job like this, they'd have to be as good as him. That could narrow down the suspect list. It had to be someone he didn't know. The only person he knew who could've pulled it off was Keller, and he and Peter had put him behind bars about a month ago. Even if Keller had planned out the theft, he couldn't act it out from prison. Neal smiled. It was good to have that bastard behind bars where he couldn't hurt anyone-

"HE WHAT?!"

Neal's head spun around toward the source of the shout. Peter was standing near his office door, phone held to his ear and half the bureau starring at him.

"I don't care how it happened." Peter barked into the receiver, "just find him!" Peter hung up his phone angrily and took a deep breath. He looked up at the agents who were already staring back at him.

"Listen up everybody. This division just went on high alert." Peter scanned the room, stopping to make eye contact with Neal.

"Sometime last night, Keller escaped from prison."


	2. Chapter 2

Note: Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up! I haven't had a computer of my own to write with, but I just got a new laptop, so I'll be able to write more regularly and post chapters sooner. Also; I know this and the first chapter a kind of short, but I will be writing longer chapters now that I have a private laptop for writing. Happy reading!

* * *

Neal's mind raced. Keller escaped? Neal knew it was going to happen eventually. Keller probably didn't want to be in prison, and it wouldn't be too hard for him to break out. Hell, Neal had escaped from prison himself. But deep down, he'd been hoping Keller wouldn't be able to get out. That Keller was gone for good, nothing more than a distant nightmare.

Neal sighed and rubbed his temples. Keller was out, and that was that. What Neal needed to figure out is what he would do with his newfound freedom.

Neal heard someone clear their throat in front of him. He looked up to see Peter. He'd been so lost in thought he hadn't even noticed the other man's presence. Neal chided himself for not being more alert.

"My office. Now."

They headed up to Peter's office and Neal sat down in the small chair in front of Peter's desk. Peter closed the door behind him and sat across from Neal, obviously tense. No wonder, thought Neal, he did just find out that the man who once had him kidnapped had just escaped from custody.

"I want an agent on you 24/7 until we catch Keller," Neal started to protest, but Peter quickly silenced him.

"This isn't up for debate, Neal. Last time we faced off with Keller, he tried to kill you. In fact, if I hadn't gotten there when I did, he would have killed you."

"Keller's gone after me before, Peter, and I'm still standing." Neal argued. "And what about you? Are you forgetting the time Keller had you kidnapped? And what about Elizabeth? What if Keller tries to go after her again?"

"I've already sent an agent over to the house. Elizabeth's fine. But when you're not at the office, or with me, I want an agent with you. That's final."

Neal stayed silent. Even though he hated the idea of having an agent stuck to him constantly, he was too stressed from the day's events to argue.

"Fine." he agreed with a sigh.

* * *

The day seemed to pass in a blur. Agents rushed from desk to desk, exchanging documents and manila folders amongst themselves. They seemed to work with a hive mind: everyone had their own specific job, yet they came together in perfect synchronization. Neal sighed. He wasn't quite sure yet how he was meant to fit in with this hive.

Neal accomplished little over the course of the day. He could do little for the Keller case that hadn't already been done. And anytime he tried to get work done on another case, he lost concentration, his thoughts drifting toward Keller.

When it was finally time to leave, Peter steered one of the newer agents towards Neal's desk.

"This is Agent Mathews. He'll be your own personal bodyguard until this blows over"

The young agent smiled timidly.

Neal nodded. "Fine. I'm exhausted, so I'll be heading home now."

"Alright," responded Peter slowly, "See you tomorrow, then."

Neal nodded again and headed out of the building, tailed by the young agent.

* * *

While Neal was happy to be home, he was less pleased about the young agent who was there with him. The idea of having somebody sitting in his kitchen all night was rather unsettling.

He sighed. It wasn't something he could change, so he figured it best to just put the thought out of his mind. He informed Mathews where to get water and where the bathroom was, and figuring that was sufficient, announced he was going to bed. With an awkward 'good night' from the agent, Neal sauntered off to his bedroom, and, despite being stressed about the Keller situation, fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

A solemn mood had settled over the bureau by the next day. 24 hours had passed and they hadn't found even the slightest trace of Keller. Peter was beginning to wonder if the 'high alert' he had announced yesterday was really necessary. As far as they could tell, Keller had gone underground. If that was true, then there was no telling how long it would be until he resurfaced. And no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't keep agents posted on his loved ones indefinitely. He made an ultimatum with himself; if the situation hadn't changed in 24 hours, he would call off the escorts and go back to business as usual.

Peter walked out of his office and pointed at Neal, signaling him to come up. Neal entered the office and the two of them sat in their respective chairs.

"We haven't gotten any closer to finding Keller," admitted Peter, " so I'm asking you now; Do you know anything about Keller that you haven't told me yet that could help us find him?"

"No," Neal replied, "I've told you everything I know, Peter."

Peter sighed. "I believe you. It's just that we haven't gotten any closer to finding Keller, and any piece of information could possibly be what we need to find him."

Neal remembered what he had been thinking prior to the announcement about Keller.

"I may know something about Keller- Though It's just a theory…" Neal trailed off, unsure whether or not to continue.

"What is it, Neal?"

"Remember that 'impossible robbery' you were talking about yesterday?" Neal asked. Peter nodded.

"What about it?"

"Well, just before we got the news of Keller's escape, I remember thinking how the only two people in the world who could have pulled off a heist like that were me…"

"And Keller." Peter finished, realization dawning on him. "Neal, if you're right about that, then all we have to do to find Keller…"

"Is solve an impossible case."


	3. Chapter 3

Note: The plot thickens! These first three chapters are mostly setting up for the rest of the story; so don't worry if you think it's kind of dull action-wise so far; excitement will be coming shortly. ;) And apologies for any and all irregularities with how often I post new chapters- I know I got this chapter out pretty fast but school's pretty hectic and they won't all come this soon. Although I'll try to post about once a week or so if possible. (And yes, I meant it when I said I'll try to lengthen the chapters. This one just works better if its shorter.)

* * *

Neal sighed, his eyes scanning over the computer screen for what seemed like the thousandth time. His shoulders were beginning to ache; he had been sitting hunched over his desk for far too long. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his sore eyes.

His job was simple; Look over the schematics of the transport of the Raphael and find any possible weaknesses in the security that could have been used to switch out the painting while it was being moved.

Neal sighed. As far as he could tell, there was no way to get to the painting during transit. The Small Cowper Madonna was an incredibly famous painting, and no expense had been spared for its protection. It was moved using an armored van, with at least one guard watching it at all times. Peter had already interrogated the three guards from the transport, and while they were still persons of interest in the case, Peter was doubtful that they were involved with the theft.

Neal felt like pulling out his hair. The painting had to have been switched during transport. It was authenticated immediately before being packed into the van, and had been given directly to the museum authenticator once it reached its destination. However, by the time the van had arrived, the painting had been replaced with a forgery. Meaning the impossible must have occurred; the painting was taken from right under the noses of the guards.

Neal had had enough. He headed up to Peter's office with the little info he had found. Peter looked up as Neal knocked on his office door.

"Find anything yet?" Peter asked halfheartedly.

"Not really," replied Neal, "though I'm pretty sure the only time the painting could have been switched was in transit. Are you 100% certain that the guards weren't involved, Peter? As far as I can tell, the only possible way the switch could have been made is with an inside man."

"No I've already interrogated the guards, and I don't believe they were involved. They were all financially secure, and had no other motive for helping someone steal the painting."

"So we've got nothing," Neal said with a sigh,

"If it is Keller behind this, he's done a damn good job of making this hard for us."

Neal sat silently for a moment, thinking. "Can I take a look at the forgery? Perhaps whoever made it was careless and signed their work. It's happened before; that is how we realized Hagen was the Dutchman. Besides, we haven't gotten anywhere yet, and if I can find something in the forgery, we may finally get a lead."

Peter nodded. "The forgery is down in evidence lockup. Let's go."

Peter grabbed his jacket and began to exit his office when Diana ran up to him.

"Boss, there's been a break-in down at evidence lockup. Somebody shot and killed the agent working there."

Peter paled, "Was anything taken?"

"Agents are going through the security footage now, but as far as they can tell, the only thing taken was the forged Raphael."

* * *

Neal scanned the room, taking in the scene around him. Agents worked to gather evidence and document the crime scene. The dead agent's body had been removed, and all that remained was a sticky puddle of half-dried blood on his desk. Neal shivered slightly before he stopped himself. Violence had become more regular for him since he had joined the White Collar division, but rarely did that mean someone ended up dead.

Neal scanned the room, taking in the scene around him. Agents worked to gather evidence and document the crime scene. The dead agent's body had been removed, and all that remained was a sticky puddle of half-dried blood on his desk. Neal shivered slightly before he stopped himself. Violence had become more regular for him since he had joined the White Collar division, but rarely did that mean someone ended up dead._  
_

Peter finished talking to one of the agents and walked over to Neal.

"Agents have gone over the scene, and the only thing taken was the forgery. The thief picked the lock on the back door, walked right up to the agent and shot him before grabbing the painting and leaving."

"But why would someone bother breaking in here just to get a fake painting…" Neal trailed off, realization dawning on him.

"Peter, was the painting brought here immediately after the museum authenticator flagged it as a fake?"

"Yes, of course. What are you getting at?"

"I don't think the painting was stolen during transport."

"Okay," replied Peter,"then when was it taken?"

"The only authenticator who saw the painting once it got to New York was the one from the museum, wasn't it? After that, nobody else needed to see it because you knew it was a fake."

"Are you saying the guy from the museum lied?"

"While the painting was under museum protection, it would have flawless security guarding it. However, a forgery would be brought to the FBI evidence lockup, where- no offence- the security leaves something to be desired. So, get your inside man to flag it as a forgery…"

Peter realized what Neal was saying.

"So the painting we had in evidence, where it would be easy to take-"

"Was the real Raphael."


End file.
